


Wednesday Night

by flaming_muse



Series: Reality Bends [2]
Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: April Showers Challenge, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-01-04
Updated: 2005-01-04
Packaged: 2017-10-18 09:54:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/187650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flaming_muse/pseuds/flaming_muse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just another Wednesday night for Spike and Wesley.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wednesday Night

**Author's Note:**

> set after the end of [Reality Bends](http://reality-bends.livejournal.com/), which goes AU after AtS 5x07 - the main story isn't required reading
> 
> Originally posted on my LJ on January 4, 2005.

There were times when Spike looked at Wesley and could see with utter clarity the pompous, bumbling, insecure prat Dawn described him as having been years before, and there were other times when Spike could map out in the lines of Wesley's face every single hurt he had ever experienced, though that happened far less frequently than it once had.

Then there were times when Spike looked at Wesley and was struck by how unbelievably frightening he was when he was staring someone down without mercy.

Breathing hard and rubbing at his sore knuckles, Spike straightened up from delivering one last punch to a demon that was liberally tentacled and remarkably resistant to death. He was dimly aware that it wasn't quite right that his response to finding Wesley standing ten yards down the alley, lit from behind by a flickering light on the street beyond, his face hard and cold, and his gun leveled coolly at Spike's head, was unadulterated arousal, but then his hormones had always been stronger than his sense of self-preservation.

He barely had time to think 'Oh, _yes_ ' and then 'Oh, _bugger_!' before the gun went off and a bullet whizzed past Spike's temple close enough to brush his disarrayed hair. There was the crunch-splat of the projectile piercing through thick, armor-like skin into vulnerable flesh and a heavy thump as a demon toppled over backwards just behind him.

Spike glanced over his shoulder at the latest corpse and tried to talk around his heart, which had lodged itself somewhere in his throat. "Could've warned a bloke before nearly shooting him in the head," he said in a voice only barely higher than usual.

Wesley surveyed the alley and the handful of demons lying dead on the ground. He seemed to be satisfied by what he saw, since he re-holstered his revolver under his coat. "I wasn't going to hit you. And his teeth would have been in your arm before I could have finished my sentence."

"Thought he was already dead," Spike said. He gave the demon one last kick, well away from its tentacles and razor-sharp teeth, just in case.

"Apparently he had a different opinion."

The detachment in Wesley's tone pulled Spike's attention away from the excitement of the fight and of being on the business end of Wesley's gun. "Did you get hurt, pet?" he asked, looking over at him again.

Wesley shook his head as he brushed off his suede jacket. "I'm fine." He looked past Spike to the other end of the alley. "That seems to be the lot of them. I'll be interested to read the official police version of why all of the so-called gang violence in this neighborhood will have disappeared."

Wesley _sounded_ fine, and Spike couldn't smell his blood, but he was looking anywhere but at Spike.

As a test, Spike took a step sideways to put himself into Wesley's line of vision.

Wesley met his eyes for only a fraction of a second before squatting down to examine the body at his feet. "At least I don't hear any sirens. I'd rather not have a repeat of last week's footrace."

"You were the one who wanted to stick around after the demon was dead."

"We were getting paid to recover the entire folio," Wesley replied, not for the first time. He poked idly at the demon's skin but didn't seem to be really looking at it. "I had to be sure we had all of the pieces."

"And then we had to try to hold onto all the loose bits of paper flapping in the breeze while we took a nice moonlit jog to keep from getting caught by the cops."

Wesley's lips pressed together in a slightly firmer and less amused line. "Which is precisely what I would not like to repeat," he said, standing up again.

It wasn't like Wesley didn't become distant when he was absorbed in something, but this felt different to Spike. The demons were dead, their job was done, and there wasn't anything to hold his attention. In fact, that was the problem; now that there was nothing else to think about, _Spike_ still wasn't on his mind. It was especially difficult to bear because Spike was almost vibrating with the need to touch him, and Wesley was giving off some of the strongest 'I'm not thinking about you' vibes Spike had ever seen.

"You're sure you're all right?" he asked, squinting at Wesley's face. It was hard to get jealous of nothing, but he thought that he could work himself up to it if Wesley continued not to look at him.

"Just a few bruises, if that." Wesley's tone was light, unconcerned, unlike his usual brisk efficiency after a battle, and it made Spike even more suspicious. "Piercing their third eye was easy enough, if one didn't happen to be in the mood to toss them about the alley like oversized rag dolls before dispatching them."

"It's been a week since we had a good fight," Spike explained. It wasn't quite a whine. "Didn't want it to be over too quickly."

Wesley's expression grew blander and less readable, which Spike wouldn't have thought was possible until he saw it. "We wouldn't want to deprive you of your near-death experiences, would we."

Spike tried a grin. "Can't get much nearer than I already am, pet."

The levity didn't work; Wesley's posture remained as stiff as a statue. "There's still some room there."

With a little sigh, Spike crossed his arms over his chest and gave the demon a frustrated kick. Whenever he was comfortable enough that he thought that he could understand Wesley's every action, something like this would happen. When he should have been happy for their success and ready to stop for a drink to celebrate none of their blood being spilled for yet another day, Wesley was instead looking like he had just caught Spike reading the Watchers' Diaries over the phone to Dawn in funny voices. Again.

 _Hang about. What was that about blood?_

Spike studied Wesley for another moment. Unwillingness to meet his eyes, exaggerated care as he cleaned his hands, unresponsiveness to joking. Yes, Wesley was unhappy - unhappy about something to do with Spike - and he was trying to hide it.

"Didn't say thank you, did I?" Spike asked, walking toward him. Prowling might have been a better description, given the confident roll of his hips and the intensity of his gaze on Wesley's face.

Wesley didn't look at him, thereby ruining the effect of the prowl. "For what?"

"For that sharp shooting of yours. Saved me a lot of trouble, and a lot of blood."

Wesley's eyes flickered up from the demon, then, and he said with quiet intensity, touching close to what Spike suspected was the heart of the matter, "It was about to hurt you."

"I know, love."

This time Wesley watched as Spike prowled closer, and his eyes grew darker as the vampire approached.

Spike slid his hand over Wesley's shoulder and down his arm. "But here I am, all in one piece. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Wesley said, a ghost of a smile finally touching his lips.

Seeing no reason not to, Spike leaned in and kissed the smile right off of them. It took a lot of effort to pull back, because touching Wesley just fanned the flames of need that had been burning inside of him since... well, really, since the last time Wesley had touched him, but especially since he had been so beautifully calculating and deadly during the fight.

"Thank you," Spike repeated in a husky murmur, taking hold of Wesley's hips and walking him backwards toward the brick wall of the alley.

"It was my pleasure," Wesley said. A surprised, almost nervous laugh escaped him as his back came in contact with the wall.

"Not yet." Spike slipped his hand between them, rubbing over Wesley's cock. He was pleased to feel it respond immediately. "But it will be."

Wesley swallowed, the action accentuating his lovely throat. "What are you doing?"

"Weren't you listening?" Spike dragged his eyes back up to Wesley's face. "Thanking you."

"You don't have to - "

Spike stopped Wesley's objection with another kiss, taking his permission from the cock hardening under his palm and the way Wesley's hands came up to grip Spike's coat, pulling him closer, not pushing him away.

After he got past his initial hesitation, Wesley kissed him hungrily, and it only ended when Wesley tore his mouth away to suck in gasping breaths, as desperate for air as Spike was for him.

"You're so gorgeous," Spike said, mouthing down Wesley's throat. He smiled at Wesley's little needy whimper and cupped Wesley's cock more firmly. "One look at you like that and I'm so hard it hurts." He illustrated by pressing his own erection against Wesley's thigh.

"Like what?" Wesley asked as Spike nibbled under his jaw. "One look at me like what?"

"Steely-eyed and determined. Like you'd kill anything in your way and not even blink."

"I don't - "

Spike silenced whatever Wesley was going to say by pushing his hand under the front of Wesley's shirt and sliding it along his deliciously warm skin. "You _do_. Especially when you're trying to protect me."

"You don't - " There was a gasp as Spike's fingers found Wesley's nipple and his mouth latched onto the skin just over his jugular. Wesley's hands dug into Spike's jacket, and he bared his throat in a move that never didn't make Spike want to fuck him then and there, as if he needed the encouragement. "You don't need my protection," Wesley protested.

When Spike lifted his mouth from the flushed spot he had left on Wesley's neck, he replied, "Doesn't mean it's not good to have it." He squeezed Wesley's erection, then stroked it through the denim. "Doesn't mean I don't like you wanting to."

Wesley's head fell back against the brick wall, his mouth open and his eyes closing. "I don't want you to be hurt," he whispered, and Spike could hear the lingering threads of unhappiness in his voice not yet chased away by his arousal.

"I know." Spike licked up Wesley's neck, tasting the pulse pounding beneath his tongue.

"God, Spike..."

Spike smiled; Wesley losing his train of thought was always an encouraging sign. "And I'm right as rain, thanks to you, apart from my cock trying to punch a hole through my jeans. I needed you." He flicked open Wesley's fly and slid his hand inside, groaning as he wrapped his hand around Wesley's erection. His voice was much rougher when he said, "Always need you."

" _Spike_..." Wesley rocked his hips forward, thrusting into Spike's hand.

"I've got you, love," Spike said. He pressed another soft kiss to Wesley's throat and then folded to his knees in front of him.

Wesley's eyes were dilated as he looked down at Spike, his chest heaving with arousal. He moaned as Spike pushed Wesley's clothes away from his erection and leaned forward to rub his cheek against it.

"There we are," Spike murmured, closing his eyes for a moment and inhaling deeply, savoring Wesley's scent. "Seeing you like that, knowing it was for me, makes me want to be here on my knees. Makes me want to taste you, have you in my mouth, down my throat." He brushed his closed lips along the underside of Wesley's cock. "Let me."

"Yes," Wesley said, his hands fisting in Spike's coat and his hips canting forward. "Please."

Spike licked over the tip of Wesley's erection and had to reach down to shift his own painfully trapped cock. "Need you so much, Wes," he said and then wrapped his mouth around him.

Wesley cried out softly as Spike began to suck. It wasn't a time for finesse; Spike was too wound up for that. Instead his movements were focused and eager, his tongue swirling and his cheeks hollowing. He didn't care how long it lasted, just that he wanted Wesley so badly he could barely stand it.

Wesley certainly didn't seem to mind the frantic pace. "Oh, _god_ ," he whimpered as Spike's teeth lightly grazed him on his next upward glide. His hips bucked, and Spike did it again, cupping Wesley's buttocks to encourage him to move as he liked. " _Spike_."

Unable to stop his own desperate moan, Spike took Wesley's cock in deeper, its head pushing into his throat with every thrust of Wesley's hips. He could almost taste the blood that had filled it, making it hard, hard for _him_.

His entire body trembling and his voice thick with need, Wesley lifted one hand to tangle in Spike's hair, guiding him and caressing him at the same time. "Yes, love. So good."

Spike could barely hear his words, so focused was he on the hot erection gently fucking his mouth, but he knew what they meant, and they made his cock twitch and throb.

Losing the fine edge of his control, Wesley began to thrust more forcefully, his cock leaking and making Spike's mouth water, tearing a groan from Spike's throat. "Yes. Spike, _yes_."

Pressing his hand to his own cock to try to ease its ache, Spike looked up to see Wesley's head tipped back, his eyes glittering darkly from beneath his lashes as they stayed fixed on Spike's mouth. Spike couldn't look away, caught in his gaze as he redoubled his efforts, taking Wesley's cock in as far as he possibly could and swallowing around it.

" _God_." The word was a choked entreaty as Wesley's body quaked, his breath coming in harsh gasps. His fingers tightened in Spike's hair, the pain just adding to the vampire's pleasure. "Again. Do it again."

Spike wouldn't have dreamed of disobeying, and he swallowed once more, eliciting another full-body tremor from Wesley and experiencing one of his own in return.

Wesley seemed to have been driven beyond words, but the pitch of his moans made it clear what he wanted. Spike swallowed again, and again, until Wesley bucked forward and filled Spike's mouth with the hot, salty fluid he desired in that moment more than blood.

Gentling his movements, Spike licked and sucked Wesley's cock until his orgasm was past, cleaning up every drop, and then he sat back on his heels, his body so tense with arousal that every muscle was trembling.

Wesley's hands moved weakly on his shoulders, urging him upwards. As soon as Spike was on his feet, Wesley drew him in for a kiss, leisurely exploring his mouth as though tasting himself on Spike's tongue.

"Thank you," Spike said when it was over.

His eyes barely open, Wesley gave him a satisfied smile. "I believe that's my line." He slid his hand to the small of Spike's back and pulled him in close, his other hand moving to cup Spike's erection.

Spike shuddered at Wesley's touch. "I meant for protecting me. Wanting to. I love that you don't want anything to touch me."

"Besides me." Wesley began to rub his hand along Spike's cock, the friction warming the denim between their skin.

"Definitely you," Spike agreed, leaning in against Wesley as his eyes drifted shut.

"Do you know why I shot the demon instead of calling out to you?" Wesley asked, focusing his attentions on the tip of Spike's erection, rubbing, pressing, driving him mad.

"Because you love me?" His hips working with Wesley's hand, Spike gasped the words.

Wesley lowered his mouth to Spike's throat and replied in a low purr, "Because the only one allowed to bite you is me." Then he squeezed Spike's cock with surprising force and bit down lightly just above his collar.

" _Wes_ ," Spike cried as his orgasm overtook him in a series of almost violent spasms, and he clung to Wesley to keep himself upright as the world did somersaults around him.

"And because I love you," Wesley added more softly, tightening his hold around Spike's waist.

"Love you, too, pet," Spike whispered, searching for Wesley's lips in the sparkling daze that was his afterglow. The kiss was slow and thorough, and by the time it was finished Spike had his feet under him again. "You're so good at that."

"At what?" Wesley brushed his lips over Spike's cheek.

"Making me come so hard I see stars," Spike said as he opened his eyes.

Wesley laughed softly. "So are you."

Spike was pleased to find Wesley's eyes warm and fixed on his. He smiled and leaned in for another kiss, drawing it out a bit longer than he had planned. "Mmm, much better."

"What's that?" Wesley asked, stroking his hand down Spike's back beneath his duster.

"I like you lots of ways," Spike replied, "but smiling at me is my favorite."

Wesley's eyes crinkled up around the corners in an expression Spike read as delight. "I'll have to do it more often, then."

"And I'll have to see if I can make you."

"You won't get any complaints from me," Wesley said, taking a deep breath and straightening up from the wall.

Pulling away and frowning absently down at his damp jeans, Spike said, "Haven't got any yet."

Wesley straightened his own clothes and smiled again, the earlier distance between them entirely banished. "No, you certainly haven't."

With that, they fell into step side-by-side and began to walk home.


End file.
